


Whirling Like A Ballet

by takemetofantasyland



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, I just love ballet aus ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22610344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takemetofantasyland/pseuds/takemetofantasyland
Summary: Anya is the principal dancer of the Nevsky Ballet Company. When the company begins to fail financially, a new dancer with name recognition is brought in to help boost the company financially for a potential donor. Anya is used to having her way at the ballet, but a new dancer joins the company and keeps her on her toes.
Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry/Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 38





	1. Chin Up, Give Them A Show

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking of doing a ballet au for a very long time, and i think now is the time! :) I am not, however, a ballet dancer in a company, so I'm trying my best with the technicalities. Or better yet, suspend your disbelief for a minute and enjoy the ride!

Anya stood at her cubby in the women’s dressing room and pulled her sweatpants off and tossed them inside with her sweatshirt and shut the door. She fixed her skirt over her leotard and grabbed her shoes and water bottle as she walked stocking-foot across the dressing room. 

She walked down the hallway and into the studio, and promptly sat on the floor to put her shoes on. 

“Good morning, Anya,” a voice sneered over her.

Anya rolled her eyes and scooted on the floor to turn around. “What, Marfa?”

“Oh, that bite doesn’t look good on you,” Marfa pouted as she rested her hands on her hips and shifted her weight. “Better turn that frown upside down if you want to win this audition.”

Anya scoffed and turned away from Marfa. “I won’t need a pretty smile, or good luck,” she replied as she fixed the strap on her shoe. “You on the other hand—I hope you said your prayers this morning.”

Marfa’s mouth gaped. The pair had been wrapped up in an intense rivalry since nearly the day Anya set foot in the school, and Marfa had grown bitter over time that Anya always won the principle roles. 

“Something wrong, Marfka?” Anya smirked as she stood up and smoothed her skirt. 

Marfa closed her mouth and frowned. She glared at Anya as she walked across the studio to sit and stretch with Paulina and Dunya. 

“Just as I thought,” Anya muttered. She took her space on the studio floor to stretch. 

The studio door opened and Nataly walked into the room. “Good morning, ladies! Auditions will begin in 20 minutes. Make sure you’re warmed up and dear God, make sure you’re hydrated.”

“Good morning, Nataly!” The girls chirped back. 

Nataly was the lead company choreographer. She had trained most of the girls in the company since they were teenagers, and although stern, she was like a mother to many of the girls in the company.

“Keep that attitude when I see you in the room, break legs, ladies!” Nataly called as she surveyed the room and took attendance. 

Anya stretched to the soundtrack of incessant whispering behind her. Each time she tried to deepen her stretch, the whispers grew louder. 

She turned around and looked Paulina in the eyes. “Would you cut it out?”

“Hope for your sake you get the part, Anya, Swan Lake could be your Swan Song,” Paulina jeered. 

“What are you talking about?” Anya asked. She grunted as her elbow slipped out from under her and she caught herself with her free hand. 

“The company is bleeding out financially. You know this could be our last season.” Paulina replied. “I only hope we have a good Odette to carry us through, but no pressure!”

Anya clenched her jaw and turned around as she rolled up into a split to stretch her inner thighs. She rolled out of it and stood up, and walked to the barre to continue her stretch.

* * *

“I’ll do the auditions with the girls, but after that I’m done!” A voice called as a man walked into the hallway. 

Anya stopped in her tracks and watched a disheveled man slam Nataly’s office door shut. 

She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should approach the situation. “Sasha?” She said quietly. 

The man gasped as he turned to look at her. “Anya,” his face was solemn. 

There was a beat between them as Anya neared him. 

“What was that about?” She asked as she gently took his hand in her own. 

“Anya, I-“ Sasha began. He pulled his hand out of her grip. “I will no longer be performing with the company.”

“What?” Anya gasped. “Sasha!”

“I know! I know,” he paused. He bit his lip as he looked down at her. 

“Sasha we’ve been dancing together since we were teenagers!” Anya protested. The blood ran out of her cheeks and she started to feel dizzy. This couldn’t be happening. Not this way. 

“I know,” he said softly. He held his hands on her shoulders to calm her. “I just- I got a better offer, I’m sorry, Anya.”

“You can’t leave,” Anya’s voice cracked as tears welled in her eyes. 

“Anya, there’s nothing left for me here,” Sasha replied. “Chin up, don’t cry. You’ve got your audition this morning.”

“What about _me_?” Anya asked as she brushed a tear off her cheek. 

“Anya, I didn’t mean it like that,” Sasha said quickly. 

“What did you mean, then?”

“I can’t grow here as a dancer any more,” Sasha replied. His brow knit as he looked away from her. 

Anya was silent. 

“I told Nataly I would do the Siegfried part for the auditions. I’ll be lifting you, like always,” Sasha reassured her. 

“But what about after the audition?” Anya asked. 

“You’ll be fine. You’re going to win this, I know it.”

“Sasha,”

“What do I always tell you?”

Anya paused as she looked at the floor. 

“Chin up, give them a show,” Sasha said softly as he tilted her chin up.

“Give them a show,” Anya repeated. 

“You’ve been working for this you’ll be fine.”

“So have you!”

“Anya, this isn’t about me anymore. It’s your company now, take the lead.” Sasha ran his hands down her arms like he always did when she was nervous. 

Anya bit her lip and nodded. 

“I need you to do your best for me, alright?” Sasha whispered. “Nataly has a friend of the company coming in for the audition. She’s scouting for a potential donor.”

“Sasha,”

“No buts, Anya,” he said softly. “You can do this.”

* * *

The girls lined up against the wall in the hallway outside the studio and waited for their turn to be called. Many of the other girls in the company stretched or talked through the choreography, or listened to music. Anya sat slumped against the wall on her phone. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged her arm around her knees. Her free hand swiped through photos on her phone. She had thousands of photos from over the years. 

She scrolled all the way back to a picture of her first day of school at the company. She was small, thin, her straw-colored hair was neatly pulled up in a bun, a wide grin across her 15-year-old face. The excitement of that day was one she would never forget. She had just moved in with a host family the weekend before, and for once she felt free. 

After being released from the hospital following a tragic accident that left Anya with no family and no one to claim her as their own, she was placed in the foster system. She had spent the next year going home to home. She had very few memories of her childhood, and life before her accident, but she didn’t really mind. It forced her to live in the present, and she was okay with that. 

After one of her foster mothers watched the way she moved so gracefully, she began dance lessons. Her foster mom could see it made her happy, but wasn’t sure anything could come of it. Anya surprised her instructors and her foster parents picking dance up rather quickly. 

_“It’s like she’s greeting an old memory,”_ her first dance teacher once said. 

The day after her 15th birthday, she received an acceptance letter to the Nevsky Ballet Company school. She would be able to live at the school and go to school for ballet. To her, it was the luckiest thing that could have ever happened to her. 

On her first day of school, she met Alexander Mikhailovich Lebedev, better known by his classmates as Sasha. 

He befriended Anya almost immediately, teasing her how she was the best in her class. Sasha was popular with many of the girls in class, for both his skill and his good looks. 

_“I lift a lot of girls, Anya, but you’re by far the easiest,” Sasha teased her._

_“What are you trying to say?” Anya giggled as he set her back down on her feet._

_She turned back to look at him and scrunched her nose._

_He smiled and shook his head. “You’re lucky I still want to lift you with that mouth of yours”_

_“You’re lucky I still let you,” Anya replied with a coy smile._

At seventeen Anya was well used to Sasha’s playful personality. He certainly kept her on her toes, but she kept him on his as well. 

Their stage chemistry was far beyond their years, and led Nataly to pairing them off in the corps de ballet, show after show. 

The girls in the ballet began to envy Anya and Sasha’s electric stage presence, and their quick rise to the top of the company. 

And now six years on, in what would have been their third show as principal dancers, Sasha was leaving. 

She stared down at a photo from her first year in the class. Her bun messy from a day of dancing, Sasha by her side, taller than her by at least a foot, lanky and not yet filled out. At the time they had been so serious, but now that she looked back at it, they were just kids. 

He had always been there for her. He was always ready to lift her, in any situation. 

“Anya you’re up next,” Katya warned her, breaking her train of thought. 

Anya pulled herself to her feet. 

As she heard the track in the studio come to an end, there was a pause. The studio door opened and Marfa stepped out. “Good luck in there, Anya,”

Anya frowned and walked into the room. Sasha was standing at the ready. A table of spectators were ready with clipboards. 

“Please set when you’re ready, Anya,” Nataly said softly. 

Anya set for her piece and waited for the music as Sasha neared her to set. “Chin up, give them a show,” Sasha whispered. 

Anya felt a knot in her throat as she counted in. 

She danced effortlessly with Sasha. His body and movement was so familiar to her it gave her false comfort. Nataly and a woman sitting beside her took notes. 

As Sasha dipped her down on a down beat, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Sasha brought her upright to her feet. 

“Very impressive, thank you Anya,”

Anya nodded to the table. She turned to look back at Sasha, and he nodded to her. 

Anya exited the room and ran down the hallway toward the girl‘s dressing room. She stopped before she made it and slumped against the wall, tears spilling down her cheeks. 

A few minutes later, Sasha came running down the hall. “Anya?”

She covered her face with her hands and she felt Sasha brush against her as he took a seat beside her. “You did really well in there! That tear sold them, I think,” he laughed. 

“Please, just go, Sasha,” Anya replied. 

“Anya, I said I was sorry,” Sasha said softly. 

“It pains me to think after all these years, my last dance with you had to be an audition,” Anya said coldly. She stood up and walked into the girl’s dressing room. 

Sasha’s mouth gaped as he sat, stunned. 

* * *

Nataly carried a sheet of paper out to the bulletin board in the hallway. The girls waiting in the hall jumped up and followed her to the board. 

Anya lingered behind. It felt as though a part of her knew what the sheet was going to say and the other part didn’t care because she knew Sasha wasn’t on it. Marfa and Paulina marched up to the front of the group. 

Nataly smoothed the sheet of paper onto the bulletin board and pinned it down. She stepped aside to let the girls read for themselves. 

The girls huddled around the list, while Anya patiently waited. 

_Odette: Anya Vasiliev_

_Odile: Marfa Orlov_

Marfa scoffed and shoved through the group, knocking Anya’s shoulder as she passed. Paulina and Dunya followed close behind. 

Anya stumbled and pushed through to the front. She wasn’t surprised, but the win just didn’t feel the same without Sasha. 

She walked down the hall alone, looking at her phone. Katya came running after her. “Anya! We should celebrate!” Katya beamed. 

Anya’s fingers hovered over Sasha’s number in her phone as she turned to look at Katya. She was about to call him, but decided better of it. 

“Sure!” Anya offered a weak smile to Katya. 

“You should’ve seen the look on Marfa’s face!” Katya laughed. 

Anya smiled at her friend. As they walked down the hall past Nataly’s office, she caught Sasha’s gaze through the window. 

She broke it and cleared her throat, staring at the floor as Katya linked arms with her. 

Katya was almost more excited than she was, or rather, didn’t have the unsettling nerves of worrying who would play Siegfried. She trusted Sasha’s hands to lift and carry her from years of working together, and she just didn’t know how to start from ground zero with someone new. 


	2. Dmitry Sudayev, Danseur Extraordinaire

Anya walked down the hall looking at her phone. On any other day Sasha would have texted her by now. 

He liked to start the day by sending her a Russian word of the day. Every morning it was sitting there, waiting for her before she woke up. She liked to pretend it bothered her, but over time she had come to find it somewhat endearing. Sasha had been studying Russian for quite a few years now and had encouraged Anya to do the same. 

_ “Anya, you’re Russian at heart,” Sasha had tried to reason with her.  _

She had always felt a pit in her stomach when he suggested that. She didn’t actually know that she was. And part of her was afraid to find out. She was afraid that if she did find out, she would be disappointed. So she didn’t ask questions. 

_ “You don’t know that—I don’t know that,” Anya said quickly. “I’m perfectly fine not knowing what I am.” _

Anya stared at her blank home screen. Just because Sasha was no longer with the company didn’t mean they couldn’t still be friends. Even though she found it particularly difficult to want to be his friend right now. She was completely blindsided and she wished he had given her a warning. 

“Anya!” Katya called. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Anya smiled warmly at her friend. At least she still had Katya. But suddenly everything felt temporary. They were growing older. Classmates were going their own separate ways. What if she woke up tomorrow and Katya was leaving too? 

Katya linked her arm through Anya’s as they walked together, as if to reassure her unspoken thoughts. 

“How are you doing?” Katya asked. 

“Fine,” Anya said solemnly. 

“I talked to Ivan last night,” Katya said softly. “We went down to the corner store because he couldn’t sleep. He said Sasha’s room is bare and their apartment is too quiet.”

Anya nodded. She knew how Ivan must have felt. 

“I miss him too, Anya,” Katya said softly as she gently nodded with an understanding.

* * *

“Glebka, I got you some tea,” Marfa announced as she walked into Gleb’s office. 

Gleb looked up from his paperwork and his brow arched. “I didn’t ask for any tea.”

“I know, but I brought you some,” Marfa shrugged as she placed the cup on his desk. She gently leaned against his desk to see what he was doing. 

“Oh,” Gleb said softly. “Thank you, Marfa.”

He carefully pushed his papers away from her and swallowed hard. 

Gleb picked up his pen and continued filling out forms. With such sudden change in the company, there was an endless stack of paperwork to be done. Gleb managed the financials of the company, and, as Marfa liked to call it, did all the boring book work. He didn’t see much of the performers often, as he was often tied up in his office ironing out what they were acting out in real time. 

He was filling out forms for new company members, forms for company members who decided to leave the company on short notice, at this company he had one thing—and that was job security.

Marfa lingered, her fingers tracing over the wood detailing on the edge of the desk. “So did your father really fire Sasha?”

Gleb looked up at her, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Alexander quit on his own accord.”

Marfa’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “What do you know, Vaganov?” she asked. 

“Nothing,” Gleb replied coldly as he shuffled papers on his desk. He straightened a stack and placed it on his desk as he looked up at her with an exasperated sigh. “Are you done with your gossip?” 

“It’s not gossip!” Marfa cried as she slammed her hands on his desk and leaned down to his eye level.

Gleb clenched his jaw as he looked at her. 

“You have no proof of anything, therefore it is gossip,” Gleb replied as he slammed his hands on the desk and rose to his feet. “And it’s none of your business.”

Marfa retracted at the sudden sharpness in his voice. 

“Don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Marfa,” Gleb scolded. “You have your duty and I have mine.”

He reached down and tilted Marfa’s chin up to look her in the eye. He wanted to be sure she understood. 

Marfa clenched her jaw as she looked up at him. 

He released her and she turned sharply over her shoulder and exited his office, slamming the door shut behind her.

* * *

Anya stood at the barre with Katya as they cycled through their warm up. She glanced across the room where Marfa and Paulina were stretching on the barre and giggling amongst themselves. 

“Anya, are you alright?” Katya asked as they cycled through pliés. 

“It’s really sick, isn’t it?” Anya replied. She and Katya bent back together and returned upright. “How much joy Marfa is getting from Sasha departing?”

“She’s only getting joy out of it because you’re so upset,” Katya replied as they pliéd together. 

Anya drew her arm up over her head and slowly rolled backwards. “How could I not be upset? How could anyone not be upset? Sasha has been with this company just as long as the rest of us,” Anya replied. 

They straightened upright and began toe work. 

“Careful on your toe there,” Katya pointed out. “I mean, I know you two were close.”

Anya raised herself on pointe, “I just don’t see how Nataly can replace him.”

“You’ll have to learn to work with whoever they hire,” Katya replied softly. 

“I know,” Anya replied quickly. “it just won’t be the same.”

“Nothing ever is,”

“I hate him for leaving but I miss him more,” Anya said softly and she paused. 

Katya stopped, “Anyok.” 

“It doesn’t feel right to be here without him,” Anya said softly as she surveyed the room. 

Katya’s face softened. Anya appeared to be lost in some sort of memory. 

She thought about how dull the studio looked and felt without Sasha and his laughter filling the room. 

She knew Katya was right, but she didn’t want things to change. They were a legendary pair. Newspapers and magazines across the country had written about them. Romance rumors had swirled about. It was like living in a dream. Only for that dream to come crashing down.

* * *

Anya was the last dancer to file into the studio after their lunch break. Nataly spoke quietly with a tall man in the front corner of the studio.

“Oh good, you’re all here!” Nataly beamed. “Although we are very sad to have lost Sasha Lebedev’s immaculate talent in this company, I am thrilled to introduce our new male principal, Dmitry Sudayev. You may recognize Dmitry, he joins us from a traveling company, and is one of the best regarded dancers in the industry. Please join me in making him feel welcome.”

The company buzzed with excitement. Anya glared at him. She didn’t care who he was or what he did. He was replacing Sasha and it already felt like pouring salt in a wound. 

“Dmitry?” Nataly gestured to him, opening the floor to him to introduce himself. 

“Hi everyone, thank you to Nataly for that kind introduction, I’m Dmitry, and I’m looking forward to getting to work with all of you,” Dmitry bared a charming grin. 

There was a hum amongst the girls in the company, many of the girls already fawning over his charming smile and floppy hair. Anya already hated it. 

She tucked her knees to her chest on the floor. She felt so small in a place she often felt so comfortable. It was like he was intruding on her ballet company. Like he was trying to take something from her that didn’t even belong to her. 

Dancing was all she had that truly felt her own, and even now she wasn’t so sure. 

Dmitry scanned the group of dancers and his eyes fixed on Anya. It was almost as if he had been prepped that she was Anya, the company’s principal dancer. 

“I’m also returning to the city after touring for a few years, so let me know what’s new in the city!” Dmitry laughed. “Things change quickly around here, and I’m always looking to try something new.”

Anya rolled her eyes. 

After Nataly dismissed them, Anya moved quickly to exit the studio. 

“Hey,” a voice called behind her. 

Anya spun around and found herself face to face with Dmitry. 

“I was hoping we could talk, when you have a minute?” He asked. “It just seems we’re going to be working together quite a bit.”

“I’m busy,” Anya snapped and walked out of the room. 

Dmitry followed her out into the hallway. He was a bit taller than Sasha when he stood face to face with her. 

“When you have a minute?” Dmitry repeated. He softened as he tried to be reasonable. 

“I said I’m busy,” Anya scoffed. 

He followed her down the hall. 

“Anya, we’re going to be working together very closely, it helps when dancers have some sort of connection off stage-“

“Don’t tell me what you think you know about dancing!” Anya snapped and turned over her shoulder. 

She glared at him. It was bad enough they had to bring in someone with higher name recognition to keep the company afloat. 

Dmitry stood still in the hallway and his mouth gaped as he watched Anya walk away.

* * *

Katya sipped her water as she sat across from Anya at the cafe around the corner from the ballet school. She swallowed hard and watched Anya as she stared blankly at her phone. 

“Dmitry seems nice,” Katya offered. 

“I can already tell he’s going to be a thorn in my side,” Anya replied. 

“You haven’t even danced together yet!” Katya laughed. 

“I can tell his type,” Anya replied. “Stupid grin, floppy hair. I don’t care if he is Dmitry Sudayev, Danseur Extraordinaire.” The words rolled off her bitter tongue as she mocked him. 

Katya laughed. “Only you could make a thousand excuses, Anya.”

Anya glanced at her phone. She unlocked it out of habit and hopped onto an app and refreshed it. Nothing. 

“Hey, stop looking at your phone,” Katya chided. She knew Anya was looking for any sign of Sasha. “Lunch is almost over, anyway.”

“Please don’t make me go back to the studio with him,” Anya whined as her shoulders dropped. 

“You haven’t even given him a chance,” Katya crossed her arms. 

“We’ll see,” Anya replied. “I’m scheduled to rehearse with him while the corps and featured dancers rehearse together. We have basically all of Swan Lake to go.”

“You’ll be fine,” Katya reassured her. “Nataly wouldn’t have picked him if it wasn’t for the best. 

“Nataly will do what will make the donors happy,” Anya replied. “If that means an extravagant dancer who has traveled across the land, that’s exactly what she’s going to do.”

Anya’s shoulders dropped as she let out a sigh. She grabbed her bag and led Katya back to the school. 

“Maybe he’s the magic this company needs,” Katya suggested. 

Anya glared at her. 

They rounded the corner and walked up the stairs to the ballet school. Anya stopped at the studio and passed by the window. 

Dmitry was already inside stretching. Anya paused for a moment.

“Good luck with Dmitry,” Katya gave her a half-hearted smile. 

Anya waved as she pulled the door to the studio open. Dmitry looked up at her from where he was stretching on the floor. 

“I thought you might not come,” Dmitry laughed. 

“Well, you were wrong,” Anya quipped and pulled her pointe shoes out of her bag and began prepping her feet. 

Dmitry’s lip curled into a smirk as he watched her, absorbed in her own pre-rehearsal ritual. 


	3. Learning to Do It

Anya sat on the floor of the studio and took her time putting on her pointe shoes. The longer she drew this out, perhaps the less time she would have to actually work with him. 

Dmitry flipped through a binder of notes as he patiently waited, his brow knit. He read through notes and then flipped back, his eyes flicking to where she sat on the studio floor. His brow arched as she took her time weaving the ribbons around her leg. He had never seen a principal dancer take so long to get ready. 

Anya stood up and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She adjusted her skirt before turning back to look at him. 

“Are you ready?” Dmitry asked dryly. 

“Yes,” Anya replied pointedly. 

Dmitry flipped back to a tab in the book. “We’re on act two here,” Dmitry said as he worked through a packet of notes. 

Anya rolled her eyes. 

“Hey, listen, I know I’m not Sasha, but I’m trying my best, alright?”

“You won’t ever be Sasha,” Anya mumbled as she turned back to look at her form in the mirror. “We worked for years to build the perfect amount of on stage chemistry, only to have it ripped away.”

Anya rose on to her toes to check the fit of her shoes. 

“I said I’m trying my best,” Dmitry said sharply. 

Anya dropped down on flat foot. She looked at him in the reflection of the mirror as he leaned on the piano he was using as a table for his book. “Well, Sasha wouldn’t have tried his best, he would have been his best,” Anya said crossly as she folded her arms over her chest. 

“Just set at the top of scene three, please,” he groaned and rolled his eyes. 

Anya reluctantly set and Dmitry walked over to the stereo to start the track. He hurried back to join her in place. 

Anya started through the motions and moved beside Dmitry. Their hands met, occasionally, and, when the time came, his hand held her waist, and gripped her leg to lift her. 

Anya felt her stomach jolt. She knew what this choreography was supposed to feel like, and today it felt all wrong. 

As Dmitry’s hand gripped her thigh, she felt an overwhelming sensation of unfamiliarity. 

His hands felt different on her than Sasha’s did. She knew it was wrong to compare the two, but how could she not? She was so used to Sasha she never thought twice about it. But with Dmitry, suddenly every move she made with her body felt wrong. 

Sasha’s grip felt safe and graceful. Dmitry’s grip was harsh and firm. It took her by surprise. She didn’t feel like she was going to fall, but she didn’t like it either. 

He set her back on her feet. The track ran to the end and stopped. 

Dmitry took a moment to catch his breath. 

Anya paced in a circle as Dmitry paused. 

“You’re grabbing me too hard,” Anya said firmly as she stopped and fixed her leotard. Her eyes flicked up to look at his reflection in the mirror. 

“Define ‘too hard’” Dmitry replied. His face was cold. She was exhausting. 

He walked across the studio floor to grab a drink from his water bottle. 

“Too hard, like, I can feel your fingers digging into my leg,” Anya snapped as she watched him. 

Dmitry placed his water bottle down and returned to the floor. He swallowed and took his time. 

“It’s a safe lift!” Dmitry replied. “I need to hold you so you don’t fall or injure yourself!”

“Well hold me...more gently.” Anya said crossly. 

“Fine, Princess,” Dmitry muttered. 

“What did you say?” Anya snapped as she turned back to look at him. 

“Set again, we’ll take it once more, with feeling,” Dmitry rolled his eyes. 

He hurried across the room to turn the track back to the beginning and then skipped back to count in and join her.

They started again, and as they got to the lift, Dmitry softened his grip on her. He dipped her down and felt Anya gasp in his grip as he lowered her. 

He pulled her upright to her feet. 

“Are you insane?” Anya snapped as she whirled around to look at him. She fixed her skirt and brushed stray hairs out of her face. 

“I could ask you the same question,” Dmitry replied as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You almost dropped me!” Anya cried. 

“I didn’t almost drop you, I softened my grip, like you asked,” Dmitry replied. 

She let out a groan as she saw a satisfied look wipe across his face. 

“I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing,” Dmitry said calmly. “This whole ballet thing is going to be very difficult if you don’t.”

Anya scoffed and walked across the studio to grab her water bottle. She angrily took a sip. 

Dmitry stood and waited for her to finish. “We’re not giving up on this today,” he said sternly as he held up the book with notes. 

“Who are you? Nataly?” Anya snapped. 

“I’m your partner, and I’m behind,” Dmitry raised his voice. “If I’m going to have any chance of saving this ballet company, you are going to need to work with me.”

“Well you could start by not yelling at me!” Anya cried. 

Dmitry’s jaw hung open with offense. “It seems to be the only way to get through to you!”

“You are new to this company, you should be listening to me!” Anya retorted. 

“Well you didn’t seem too interested in teaching!” Dmitry snapped back at her. 

Anya opened her mouth and quickly closed it. She grabbed her things and packed her bag and walked out of the studio. 

“Hey!” Dmitry called. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” Anya called without turning back. 

“Nataly will have both our heads if I haven’t learned this-“

“That sounds like a You problem,” Anya called back. 

Dmitry let out an exasperated sigh. She was childish and frustrating, and there was no way this was going to work. He thought his life would be a bit calmer having gotten off the road. It had seemed he had only walked into the eye of the storm. 

The door shut behind Anya and she sat on the bench outside the studio. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she angrily wiped them away. She missed Sasha. But she couldn’t tell him that.

* * *

“I heard Dmitry was best in his class,” Paulina grinned as she and Marfa took their place on the barre during class. 

“It means nothing if he can’t work with Anya,” Marfa replied. “Dunya said she heard them arguing in the studio yesterday afternoon. This company is doomed.”

Paulina rolled her eyes as she and Marfa went through steps together. 

“I thought this company was important to Anya,” Paulina pouted. 

Anya’s brow knit as she stood ahead of Marfa. She knew Marfa was only talking loud enough so she could hear her. Anya felt her body was tense, and her movement was stiff. 

“Breathe. Just follow the steps,” Katya whispered behind her. 

She exhaled and tried to let her body flow, but she had been stiff since she and Dmitry had rehearsed together the day before. 

Anya dipped in a pilée and rose back to first. She drew her arm over her head and rose on relevé. 

It wasn’t her fault Dmitry had caught her off guard. It was a lot of pressure to dance flawlessly with a dancer she had never worked with before, and to make the chemistry between them seem natural. Dmitry certainly didn’t make it easy. 

“He is very talented,” Paulina nodded in agreement. “We’ll just have to see if Anya is up to the challenge.”

Anya felt her ears burning and she bit her tongue to stop herself from snapping. 

When class ended she grabbed her things and stormed out of the studio. 

“Anya!” Katya called. 

She continued walking to the dressing room. 

“Anya,” Katya said softly as she caught up to her. 

Anya clenched her jaw as she walked, keeping her line of vision ahead of her. 

“Don’t let what Marfa said get to you,” Katya said softly. 

“She’s never been principal, so I shouldn’t expect her to know, but it’s hard to get used to working with someone new,” Anya said quietly. “Everything Dmitry does feels different and wrong.”

“Then tell him,” Katya replied. 

“I can’t tell him,” Anya shook her head. “He’s just trained differently, and I have to get used to that. He just feels different from Sasha when we dance together. Sasha was always very warm and easy to get along with.”

Katya nodded as she pushed the dressing room door open. 

“Dancing with Sasha was dancing with my best friend,” Anya mused. “Dancing with Dmitry just feels so formal and cold.”

“It takes time,” Katya said softly. “You’ll get it, you always do.”

“I don’t need Marfa embarrassing me during class,” Anya sighed as she and Katya changed. “It’s easy for her, she doesn’t have to do it.”

Anya slid her sweats on over her tights and her fingers brushed her thigh. She thought back to how hard Dmitry had gripped her leg the day before and the phantom of the sensation was still there. 

“Anya?” Katya snapped her fingers. 

“Yes!” Anya snapped to. She turned and looked in the mirror in her locker. Her cheeks had flushed a rosy pink.

* * *

Walking into rehearsal, Anya felt like she should be putting on boxing gloves instead of pointe shoes. Dmitry was already on edge as he paced the studio. He had worked himself into a sweat just from pacing and waiting. 

“You’re late,” he said sharply. 

Anya shrugged. Anything she could do to spend the least amount of time with him. 

“Stop pulling this shit,” Dmitry said as he looked her in the eyes. “I didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for this. So drop the act, and work through this book with me.”

Anya clenched her jaw as she stared him down. “Fine.”

Anya stood with her hands on her hips as she looked in the studio mirror, glaring at his reflection. It felt like some sort of cruel punishment to be locked in here with him until they could successfully do this lift. 

“Are we doing this or what?” He snapped. “I have other things to do, namely more choreography to learn.”

She clenched her jaw as she looked at her reflection. “Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s going to be your attitude?”

“Let’s just do the lift,” Anya rolled her eyes. 

Dmitry set himself in position on the studio floor. 

“I’ll do an eight-count lead,” Anya announced. She set herself and counted in. 

As she got to the lift, Dmitry firmly gripped her waist, and grunted as he picked her up and lifted her. 

She kicked her leg out and only made it halfway before he carefully rolled her back down to her feet. 

He shook his arms out and shook his head. 

“I thought you wanted to do this lift?” Anya asked. 

“You’re not jumping into it!” Dmitry snapped. “And you know it.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anya scoffed. She looked at him in the reflection of the studio mirror. 

“Yes you do!” He snapped at her, staring her down in the mirror. “You didn’t even plié into it! You need to give me some air so I can lift you!” 

“I thought you were sure you could lift me,” Anya retorted, her lip curling into a smile. 

Dmitry’s lips parted like he had something to say, and then he decided better of it. “I can’t believe you’re the best this company has to offer. Let me know when you’re ready to actually work.”

He turned and headed out of the studio. 

Anya stood and watched him as he grabbed his water and the door closed behind him. 

She and Sasha had never fought like this. Mostly because they were raised together, the chemistry between them was natural. It was always easier to perform with friends and familiar faces than plain strangers. 

It had been years since she had even needed to learn to work with someone new. 

For a moment, she felt a horrible pit in her stomach that Dmitry was actually leaving. 

And then before she could stop herself, her feet carried her across the studio floor and she pulled the door open. 

“Dmitry, wait!” She called down the hall. 

His tall figure had made it about halfway to the men’s dressing room. He stopped for a moment and then turned back to look at her. 

“I’m sorry,” Anya mumbled under her breath. . 

He looked at her as if he didn’t hear her. 

She stared at him. He stared back at her. 

Anya dropped her shoulders and softened her body into a non-threatening stance. 

He started back to the studio, his tall figure causing her to have to tilt her chin up to look at him as he neared her. 

“What did you say, just now?” He said smartly as his lip turned into a smile. 

“I said I’m sorry.” Anya mumbled as she crossed her arms. 

“Can I get a recording of that? Or perhaps a dated and signed note?” He teased. 

Anya glared at him, “don’t push your luck.”

He laughed as she pushed the studio door open and he stepped inside. 

“I’m doing this for Nataly, just so we’re clear,” Anya added. 

Dmitry held his hands up in surrender. 

“I would be letting down many more people than just myself if I don’t figure this out with you,” Anya said softly as her eyes cast away. 

“Anya, you don’t need an explanation,” Dmitry said softly. 

Anya nodded. 

“Should we take it from the top of act two?”

Anya nodded. 

As they worked through choreography together, Dmitry paused at their lift. 

“Let’s take this lift again, I’ll count, ready, five, six, seven, and—” he inhaled as he gripped her waist. 

Anya gave him a healthy plié and inhaled as he lifted her above his head, and for a second it felt like she was floating. Her heart jumped to her throat as his hands held her steady. There was something comforting about the firm grip on her waist. And there was a new, gentler feeling to the way he held her. 

Dmitry rolled her out of the lift, and gently placed her back on her feet. 

Anya caught her breath as he head leveled. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

Anya stood and stared at the pair of them in the studio mirror, “er- yes.”

She cleared her throat and smoothed her skirt. 

Something felt different about his hands, as if for a moment they had connected and fit together. 

Dmitry watched her as her mind worked through that lift and now she stared blankly in the studio mirror. 

“Should we take it again?” Dmitry asked. 

Anya’s heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to say yes just to feel his hands on her waist again. 

“Let’s not push our luck for today,” Anya said softly with a smile. Her heart sank. 

Dmitry paused as he watched her. Her eyes cast away. 

“Anya, I’m not trying to push you to upset you,” Dmitry said softly. 

Anya turned back and looked at him. “I know.” Her voice was barely a whisper and had a childish pitch. 

A new level of understanding had been established between them. 

“Anya,” Dmitry said softly. “We don’t have to agree on everything, but I think it would be good for us to take some time to get to know each other outside the studio. Can we agree on some sort of common ground?”

Anya clenched her jaw as she looked at him. 

“I know working with a new dancer is new to you,” Dmitry replied. “I’ve worked with many dancers in my career, and I want to get to know you, to help both of us be our best” 

Anya wrung her hands nervously. Her eyes cast away. 

“Anya?” 

“We can do that,” Anya nodded. 

Dmitry smiled. “I’m sorry about what happened with Sasha. I know it must be hard for you two to separate.”

“It’s nothing,” Anya replied quietly. 

“How about we meet tomorrow after class? Just the two of us?”

Anya looked back at him. 

“Just two… colleagues,” Dmitry tried to spin it to get her to agree. 

“That sounds nice,” Anya replied. “Only if we go to the cafe at the end of the block.”

A soft laugh escaped his lips and he nodded. “Alright, we can do that.”

He offered a hand to Anya as a truce. She gingerly took his hand and shook it. That would only be the beginning. 


	4. A Change of Pace

Anya carried her pointe shoes as she walked down the hall. Her heart pounded and she exhaled to calm her racing mind. She stood outside the door of the studio, lingering for just a moment. She was early, and wasn’t sure if Dmitry was ready just yet. 

Before she had a chance to make her choice, the studio door opened. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mitya,” Marfa smiled as she turned over her shoulder and waved. “Oh, Anya! Imagine the odds!”

“Hello, Marfa,” Anya nodded. 

Her eyes flicked past Marfa to where Dmitry was standing across the studio floor. His face was blank as he watched the rivalry unfold before his eyes. 

Marfa pushed past Anya and clipped her shoulder. 

Anya stumbled and found her balance, squeezing her eyes shut. Marfa eyed her as she walked down the hall.

Anya walked into the studio and the door shut behind her. 

Dmitry took a sip of water and took a bite of something from a package next to his notebook. 

“Been keeping yourself busy?” Anya asked. 

“Yikes,” Dmitry grimaced. “Is it getting warm in here, or is it just me?”

Anya arched her brow as she looked at him. 

“Somethin’ going on between you and Marfa?” Dmitry asked. He flipped his notebook to a new section. 

“Something is always going on between me and Marfa,” Anya muttered as she sat on the floor and put her pointe shoes on. 

“You do know I do have to rehearse with her, right? She is playing Odile.” Dmitry looked at her with his brow arched. 

“I know,” Anya grunted as she eased her foot into her shoe. “I just didn’t expect her to see you and her rehearsing together.”

“Ah,” Dmitry smirked. “Sorry to disappoint, but I do have to rehearse with the dancer playing Odile, if this show is going to stay on script.”

“Right,” Anya replied as she got to her feet. She looked at herself in the mirror and brushed a few stray hairs out of her eyes. 

Dmitry took a sip of water and read through his notes. 

“Ready?” Anya asked. 

“Hm?” Dmitry looked up. “Yeah! Let’s take it from act 2.”

Anya nodded and took her place. Dmitry started the track and waited for his entrance. 

Anya moved to the music and Dmitry joined in. He circled her as she danced, his hand occasionally grazing her arm. 

Anya counted in her head and Dmitry rounded her to lift her. He held her waist to pick her up, and held her. His body was stiff and he let Anya back to her feet. 

Anya stopped. 

“You stopped,” Dmitry said as he turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?” 

“I misstepped,” Anya replied. “My mind wandered.”

“That’s not it,” Dmitry said softly. 

“Yes, it is!” Anya retorted. “How would you know?”

“Because I know your steps. You didn’t misstep.”

“Fine. Your lift there is stiff.”

“Okay,” Dmitry nodded. 

“Okay?” Anya looked at him. “You’re not going to bark at me?”

“Why would I bark at you?” Dmitry replied. “It’s my mistake. Siegfried has just seen Odette as a swan, it needs to be gentler.”

Anya nodded. 

“Can we take it again? Sixteen before the lift to the lift.”

Anya nodded and set in place. She began again, her heart racing for sixteen counts. As she got to the lift she held her breath, and felt his arm wrap around her waist. 

As he lifted her, she felt him move with her and she smiled. Anya landed back on her feet. 

“Better?” Dmitry asked as he stepped back and planted his hands on his hips. 

“Yes,” Anya nodded. 

“You’re doing good,” Dmitry nodded to her as he grabbed his water. 

“I could say the same about you,” Anya replied. 

Dmitry smiled. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his arms out. They took the same run several times to make the feeling second nature. 

“Please don’t say once more, again,” Anya sighed. 

“I’m not going to say once more,” Dmitry laughed. “How about we grab some lunch after this? Back to back rehearsals are not the easiest.”

“Of course,” Anya smiled.

* * *

Anya sat across the table from Dmitry at a small cafe a few blocks away from the studio. This had been his idea, but Anya knew he was right. They should spend time together out of the studio. 

Dmitry tapped his foot to the beat of the coffee house music that hummed in the background as his eyes scanned over the menu. 

Anya sat, avoiding eye contact and staring at the ceiling. 

“I’ve never been here,” Dmitry smiled as he set the menu down. “Nice place."

“Katya and I usually come here a couple days a week for lunch,” Anya said softly. 

Dmitry nodded. 

This was supposed to help them. This was supposed to be a bonding experience. They agreed on the walk over they wouldn’t talk about work while they were out of the studio.

“Are you liking being off the road?” Anya asked. Her eyes flicked to her hands as she arranged the sugar packets in the holder on the table. 

She didn’t know what else to talk about with him other than ballet. She suddenly realized she didn’t know anything about him outside of his professional resume. 

“It’s a change of pace,” he replied. He leaned back in his chair and gently crossed his arms. 

“But you miss it?” Anya asked as she looked at him for the slightest reaction. 

He clenched his jaw and the dimple in his cheek deepened as he thought. “I miss waking up in a new city every couple weeks,” he replied. “When I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to get out and see the world.”

Anya nodded. There was a spark in his eye and she knew she had struck some kind of chord with him. It flickered and died as he caught her gaze.

“What about you?” he asked. “Have you ever thought of touring?” 

“It sounds lovely, but I think I’d miss the city,” Anya replied. “I worked so hard to get here, I think it would feel like betrayal.”

Dmitry nodded with understanding. “You could call it a slight detour,” he shrugged. “Take a season on the road.”

“I don’t know,” Anya shook her head. “I don’t think I could do it now.”

Dmitry nodded. “Sorry, I know we said we wouldn’t talk about work.”

Anya nodded. 

There was a beat between them. 

Dmitry’s face was blank as he stared at the wall behind Anya. 

Her heel bounced under the table and part of her was starting to feel like she wanted to run. 

“Do you have any family in the city?” Dmitry asked. 

Anya pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nope, it’s just me.”

“Just you?” Dmitry laughed. “Where’s your family?”

Anya paused and shrugged. “I don’t really have one.”

“You don’t have one?”

“The ballet company is my family.”

“Whoa, hold on a minute,” Dmitry stopped her. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. 

“I don’t know what happened to my birth family,” Anya replied. 

Dmitry’s eyes widened. His lips parted as if he had something to add, and then he closed his mouth. 

“There was an accident when I was young, that’s about as far as I can remember,” Anya said quietly. “I have very few memories of my life before the accident.”

Dmitry’s jaw hung open for a moment and he snapped it shut. He cleared his throat. “What about after the accident?”

“I was orphaned. Put in a foster home.”

Dmitry pursed his lips. 

Anya cast her eyes away. 

Anya’s phone rang and she glanced down at it.  _ Sasha _ . 

Dmitry looked down at her phone and his brow arched. 

Anya shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She looked up at him, trying to ignore it as it rang. 

Dmitry looked at her while the phone rang. 

Anya gave in to her impulse and picked up her phone, “I’m so sorry I have to take this.”

Dmitry nodded. 

Anya excused herself and answered the call. She walked onto the patio of the restaurant, where Dmitry could see her through the window. 

Anya smiled as she talked on the phone and laughed as she paced in a circle on the patio. She delicately bit her finger as she listened, her lips pulled into a smile. 

Dmitry found himself staring at her. She could make the simplest task look so graceful. She spun on her heel as she paced and talked on the phone. 

Anya hung up and walked back into the cafe. She approached the table. 

“Sorry about that,” Anya sighed as she sat down. 

“Everything okay?” Dmitry asked. 

“Yeah, it was just Sasha,” Anya smiled. She settled back into her seat and she looked across the table at him.

There was a different glow on her face after talking to him. 

Dmitry felt a knot in his throat. 

“He’s doing well, I guess,” Anya sighed. 

“How often do you two get the chance to talk?” Dmitry asked. 

“Not often,” Anya replied. “That’s maybe the second time our schedules have lined up to talk since he left.”

“I’m sorry,” Dmitry said quietly. 

“It just takes time,” Anya replied. 

Dmitry nodded. Suddenly he understood why Anya had been so difficult about working with him instead of Sasha. 

Anya was quiet for the rest of their lunch. But at least she was quiet. It had been a change of pace from working in the studio.

* * *

As Dmitry waited for Anya, he stood in the hall, staring at a framed newspaper article that was yellowing with age. His face only inches away so he could read it. 

As he pulled back to look at the picture, a young girl, her straw colored hair pulled up in a bun, posing in a tutu like a woman twice her age. Dmitry turned back to look for Anya. 

“I know you said you wanted to get to know me,” Anya said as she walked into the hall with a thick binder. “There. Get to know me.” Anya slammed a large binder on the table. 

“Anya? What’s-?” He looked at the binder and then back at her. His fingers carefully opened the binder and he found it was a collection of newspaper and magazine articles about Anya. 

As he thumbed through them something just didn’t make sense to him. He thought about what Anya had said over lunch, how she didn’t have a family.

“I was an abandoned girl who was looking for an escape. Dance was my way out of a foster home.” Anya said coldly. 

Dmitry flipped through article after article featuring Anya as an extraordinary dancer. Where had she come from? Who had she trained with? Where was she going?

Photos of Anya as a teenager covered the pages. She was listed as a prodigy, an extraordinary talent, and far beyond her years of study. 

His brow knit as he read through a couple articles. 

“So, where did you come from? You seem too tough to be out taking dance classes.” Anya broke his train of thought. 

Dmitry shook his head. “I was dirt poor growing up. I only had my father. He always said to me, ‘you gotta make something of yourself, Dima,’”

“Dima?” Anya grinned as Dmitry’s eyes flared with a spark. 

“That’s what he called me,” Dmitry said softly as his eyes cast away and he looked down at his hands. 

“Then how did you land in ballet?” Anya laughed as she watched him flip through the articles. 

“Because I was poor! Ballet was the door out of the broken life I lived growing up.”

“I understand,” Anya said softly. They had more in common than she had originally thought. 

Dmitry thumbed through several pages. Anya couldn’t help but smile as she saw photos of herself she hadn’t seen in years. 

“How did you nail that pose when you were 16?” Dmitry asked as he held up a photo of her. 

“Oh, I don’t remember,” Anya laughed. “It just came very easy to me.”

Dmitry’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Didn’t you say you started ballet class when you were 15?”

“Yes, why?”

Dmitry looked at the photograph and then looked at Anya. “Someone who’s in their first year of ballet shouldn’t be able to do that,” he mumbled. 

“I did! Look it’s right there!” Anya pointed to the photo. 

Dmitry looked back at her and slid the photo back into the protective sleeve. 

“I didn’t know I was in the presence of a prodigy,” Dmitry smirked. 

“Shut up!” Anya laughed. She pulled a photo from one of the sleeves and looked at it. 

Dmitry turned to look at her, “But who is Anya besides being a ballerina?”

Anya paused for a moment and looked at him. She hadn’t really thought of that. Since she had arrived at the school she had crafted her life and her role in the ballet company into the entire identity she had been missing after the accident. She didn’t have an answer for him. 

“Who would Dmitry be if he wasn’t a thorn in my side?” Anya teased as she collected her binder. 

“Lacking a sense of purpose, I suppose,” Dmitry grinned at her. 

Anya scrunched her nose as she carried her binder back to the shelf. 

Dmitry watched her. The way she carried herself made her personality fill a room far faster than her five-foot frame could. She had a bite in her tongue, but she was charming. Magazines and newspapers ate up stories like hers.

* * *

Anya stood and stared at herself in the studio mirror. 

Dmitry turned the track on and skipped across the room to join her. He counted in quietly, and Anya closed her eyes as she began to move with the music. 

For the first time since Dmitry had walked through the studio door, Anya felt her body accept and move with the music. She allowed herself to flow, keeping time, but letting the sensation of the character touch her emotions today. 

She worked her way through the choreography allowing her body to push and pull in the direction that felt right with the music. 

Every few counts she felt a spark in her fingertips as Dmitry’s hand brushed against hers when he held her steady. He allowed her to move and develop her character, with few touches in between to remind her he was there to support her. Their hands met and broke apart with the pull of the music, and Anya had never felt her stomach drop so fast. 

Anya kicked her leg into a full extension and Dmitry grabbed it on count. She leaned into him, and he held her firmly as he dipped her down. 

Anya bit her lip to hide a smile as she moved with him, and watched how he focused on her movement in the mirror in front of them. 

“And-five-six, ready, and—” his voice trailed off as he inhaled and his hands gripped her waist. 

Anya inhaled as she gave a bend in her knees and exhaled as he lifted her off her feet as she kicked her leg up and over her head.

As the world turned upside down, she felt strength in his hands, holding her exactly where she needed to be. She had gotten used to the feeling. The way his fingers gently pressed into her waist and the spread of his palm against her back. 

They had been able to successfully do the turn following the lift, and Anya no longer dreaded it.

“Three, four, and down on five-“ He exhaled as he let out a soft grunt and slowly brought her back down to her feet. 

Anya inhaled deeply as her head leveled, and looked at her form in the mirror.

Dmitry’s hands held her waist as she rose onto her toes. He lightly held her waist through a changement sequence, and on her last count lifted her and slowly brought her back to her feet. 

The track ran to the end, and after a brief pause, Anya stood in place to catch her breath. 

Dmitry paced a small circle to catch his breath and ran his fingers through his hair. From all the movement his hair had gotten disheveled and fell in his eyes. With an effortless sweep of his fingers, he expertly pushed it back. 

Anya averted her eyes from the fluid motion of his arm as he pushed his hair back. 

He laughed as he caught his breath and looked at her, “You’re good!”

Anya smiled as she dug her hands into her hips to ease the soreness in her hips. She looked back at him, “it’s all practice.”

“I know you put the work in,” he smiled as he looked at her. “But that was really good.”

“Thank you,” Anya smiled as she straightened up.

* * *

Gleb’s head snapped up from his stack of forms as the door to his office opened and shut. A middle-aged woman stepped into his office. She was no stranger, though not a face Gleb welcomed to see in his office. 

Seeing Lily Malevsky-Malevich in person was like seeing an omen and then receiving bad news. As the personal assistant to Marie Feodorovna herself, Lily almost always was there to deliver bad news on Marie’s behalf.

“Good afternoon, Gleb,” her cheerful voice greeted him. 

“Good afternoon Ms. Malevsky-Malevich, please come in,” Gleb stood up and straightened his suit coat. 

“I’m sure you know why I’m here, so I’ll make this brief,” Lily replied. “Marie is considering a donation of a significant amount. However, she cannot sustain the company. She wants proof that their ticket sales will continue to supplement the company in addition to her contribution.”

“Yes, Ms. Malevsky-Malevich,” Gleb nodded. “Would she care to watch a dress rehearsal before our season opener? Perhaps it would encourage her that the contributions will be sustainable this year. We have Dmitry Sudayev joining the company this season.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lily replied. “But she will be in the audience on opening night. She will make her decision then.”

“The company would be happy to make our best accomodations for her,” Gleb offered. “Perhaps a spare ticket for a guest?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lily refused him. “Although I am warning you, young man, as a woman who has known Marie for many year, she does not like to be disappointed.”

Gleb nodded to Lily. 

“Thank you, Gleb,” Lily nodded. 

Gleb showed her out. As his office door shut, his shirt collar started to feel tight and he felt warm. 

There was a lot riding on the expectation of Marie’s donation, and he could only hope Anya and Dmitry would be able to charm Marie in a way that persuaded her to be more generous than usual.

After spending all afternoon with accounting books, the company was in bleak shape, and it would need a miracle to get through this. 


End file.
